


ohoho means I love you

by postcanons



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Meetings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26472460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postcanons/pseuds/postcanons
Summary: i.Kuroo and Bokuto vs. a PUSH door that should really,reallybe labeled better, for its own sake. (first meetings)ii.On a rusty playground in Bokuto's corner of Tokyo, Tetsurou realizes that dating your best bro is easy, when you let it be. (second dates)iii.???collection of old, mostly unconnected, canon-compliant bokuroo ficlets
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

The first time they meet, it’s at Tetsurou’s first summer training camp. Outside, the skies are an iridescent blue, and the July air is sweltering and suffocating. It’s the kind of weather that makes one irrevocably think: _summer_ ; everything feels sticky underneath the heat and it makes one feel so sluggish and lazy, as if trudging through a lucid dream. 

Tetsurou is wandering through the halls of Fukurodani.

He may be slightly lost.

Ok, fine, he’s definitely lost, and wait—didn’t he just pass this room three minutes ago? He’s been walking in a straight line, too... or so he thought, but now that he thinks about it, doesn’t the hallway look slightly curved?

Tetsurou drags a hand through his sweaty bed-head—it’s always been this way, unruly and sticking out in all directions. The sweat does nothing to assuage the mess, if anything it just slicks his hair more heavily into its usual state of disarray.

The usual hum of the AC is missing—isn’t Fukurodani some sort of elite school? They should be able to afford air conditioning in the hallways, it’s too hot otherwise. But it seems this wing of the building has been shut down for the break, and no one was here but One (1) Poor Lost First-Year. It doesn’t help that it’s so hot out.

Tetsurou eyes a water fountain, and decides to take a water break. Slumping down ungracefully against the wall as he finishes his drink, he resigns himself to his fate of being forever lost in Fukurodani, or at least until his teammates noticed. Yaku or Kai probably would, soon enough; Yaku probably had noticed already, since no one had bickered at him in the past half hour.

So, Yaku would find him. Probably. He’ll just stay in place, like what you were supposed to do when you’re lost.

That’s when Tetsurou hears the noise.

A shuffling, a banging, and then a loud “Holy HECK that HURT, WHAT IS THIS MOP MADE OUT OF??” a bit further down the hallway. Subsequent grunts echoes from the small janitor’s closet.

The door hinges rattle once, then the entire thing shakes dangerously, as Tetsurou gets closer. “Uh,” he says dumbly, then pauses to think about it, because does he really want to meet whatever kind of monster able to knock down a metal door? But after another resounding crash, curiosity gets the better of him, and Tetsurou steps forward and yells, “Hello? Sir, uh, if you don’t stop that—” Another shake, a groan. “The door!” A loud collision, and this time the door wobbles. Tetsurou, because one can be both curious and careful at the same time, takes a step back to a safe distance. He yells, “Will _actually break!”_

There is something beautiful in how well-timed the whole ordeal was, for the moment Tetsurou finishes his sentence, the metal door crashes open, lock splintering fantastically, and that’s the last thing Tetsurou sees before he’s bowled over by a tumbling mess of grey and white. 

\--

The grey and white mess turns out to be hair (hair as messy as Tetsurou, shaggy and drooping) and the hair belongs to a boy.

The boy’s name is Bokuto Koutarou, and he’s a first year on Fukurodani. Tetsurou learns Bokuto is not yet a starter, but his spikes are explosive (even though they’re not the best-aimed) and his coach thinks he’ll make the roster very soon. He was asked to go grab an extra mop (one of theirs broke) except he forgot where the janitor closet on the main floor was, so he took a detour up to the first year wing because that’s the part of the school he knew best (“Fukurodani’s really, REALLY big!”).

“Oh, but,” Bokuto interrupts, in the middle of ranting about doors that automatically locked and opened the wrong way, “what are _you_ doing in this wing of the school?”

Tetsurou doesn’t answer for a second too long.

“Are you lost?” Bokuto asks, eyes wide, having come to the conclusion.

“No,” Tetsurou shoots back, way too hastily to be believable. Bokuto’s nose scrunches up, and Tetsurou can almost tell the exact moment he decides Tetsurou is lying.

“Are too!” Bokuto exclaims, grin smug like this was a huge discovery.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yeah you are!”

They face off childishly for a moment, Tetsurou with crossed arms and Bokuto still smiling smugly because he knows he’s won. “Why else would anyone be here,” Bokuto declares.

“You were _stuck in a closet_!” Tetsurou protests, as if that somehow puts them on even ground. It does, because the other boy’s pose falters, and his expression falls to be completely dejected. He looks so pathetic that Tetsurou crouches down, a peace offering. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” he says.

The way Bokuto lights up is blinding, nodding vigorously. Tetsurou, sensing an opportunity, continues: “Speaking of other people, we should probably get back. Can you get us back to the gym?”

“HEY yeah! ‘Course I can do that!”

Bokuto grabs for his hand, and the other boy’s palm is large and warm in Tetsurou’s own. Tetsurou lets him, because he’s seen on the courts—Bokuto is a tactile person, and this means nothing. But it is nice, and he doesn’t want to be lost on his own again.

\--

“Water break!” Coach Nekomata yells, and Tetsurou heads over with the rest of his team to grab water bottles from the bench. It is during these situations that he duly mourns Nekoma’s lack of a manager, but definitely not as much as some of the new first-years. Yamamoto is definitely thinking the same thing, and he’s... tearing up about it again? He rips off his shirt in sudden anger as a Fukurodani manager walks past, carting water bottles, and knocks a couple of Nekoma’s own bottles right off the edge the bench before Yaku gets there in time. Tetsurou easily leaves the trouble-making 1st year to the libero, instead choosing to survey the damage. Their captain notices them then, and yells over, “Hey, everything all right over there?”

Kai yells back, “Just some bottles got knocked over and spilled, senpai.”

Their captain wrinkles his nose, no doubt mourning their lack of a manager as well now, but just sighs, “Clean it up quick then. There’s a water fountain down the hall to your left, so refill them there.”

Tetsurou ignores the jostling of the first years as he rounds them up and sends them off on cleaning duty as punishment. (“Water fountains?” Yamamoto asks in an overly exaggerated stage-whisper. “International schools are weird.” Fukunaga just nods.)

As they head off, Tetsurou heads off himself for the water fountain, grabbing all of the spilled bottles. “I got this,” he tells Kai and Yaku, because he’s always been nice, and what’s the point of making innocent people walk to the fountain when he can easily carry all of them on his own?

Never let it be said that Kuroo Tetsurou was not a kind person.

He finds the water fountain easily, and there’s a small crowd of other players milling around it. He recognizes the jersey easily, the striped white and grey hair even easier.

“Bokuto!” he yells. He hadn’t seen his friend in over half a year.

The boy stops mid-gesture, or, not really stops, but his motion changes suddenly in midair into another direction, and he’s spinning right into Tetsurou’s face before he knows it. Gold eyes light up in recognition, and that’s the only indicator Tetsurou gets before he’s crushed in a bone-shaking hug.

“Bed-head guy!” Bokuto yells, but Tetsurou’s forgotten to be offended that the kid doesn’t remember his name yet he’s still hugging him, because Bokuto has moved away from the fountain and he recognizes this little piece of shit, and so _that’s why the hallway looked so familiar, god fucking damnit._

“You’re kidding me,” he says, stiff in Bokuto’s embrace, who’s belatedly realized the body he’s holding has gone rigid and is just letting go. The other Fukurodani members, who’d been laughing at Bokuto’s outburst just a few seconds ago, misread the cause of his mortification as the casual touch, and swiftly dole out apologies on Bokuto’s behalf.

There’s this one dark-haired guy who looks slightly pained, probably more resigned, though, at their antics, who heaves a sigh and peels Bokuto the rest of the way off Tetsurou’s body. The guy—and belatedly Tetsurou notices how long his lashes are and how Pretty the guy is, _woah_ , says, “Bokuto-san’s long-term memory is… slightly lacking, I hope you understand.” just as Bokuto exclaims: “No no, I got this, Kiroo, right? Kiroo!”

But Tetsurou’s really still gaping at this water fountain, literally ten paces out from the gymnasium, that had the two of them lost for 2 hours at the last training camp.

\--

They meet there again. They make out there again. (“You’re kidding me. The gym was literally two flights of stairs away? How the fuck did you get us back the first time then?”)

\--

“Bro,” Tetsurou starts gravely.

“Yeah, bro?” Bokuto asks, looking back.

“The door says push.”

It takes a moment before recognition flickers into Bokuto’s eyes, and by that time Tetsurou is howling with laughter, because of all things, to have signified their first meeting, it is a broken door that was probably never locked, or jammed, (thought Bokuto will claim otherwise, for a long, long time into the future) but it is something approached the wrong way, and maybe, maybe that’s what they are too. “It feels like the universe is playing a giant cosmic joke on us,” he chokes out, after what feels like one of the best laughs he’s had in a long, long time.

“It feels you’re playing a joke on ME,” Bokuto says, with the most beautiful pout and the biggest, widest puppy dog eyes, He gestures wildly at the pitifully swinging closet door. “Who even designs a closet that opens IN?” He grabs at the door, slamming it shut as if to prove a point, only it easily swings shut that way, the CORRECT way, and before he can even utter out “aw, shit” Tetsurou has broken into another laughing fit, and Bokuto joins him after a short pout.

Long after they’re all laughed out, they stay sprawled in front of the closet door, just like when they first met. Tetsurou slings an arm around his best friend and boyfriend. Koutarou shifts so Tetsurou can pillow his head on Koutarou’s muscular abs, giggling when Tetsurou cops a feel.

Outside, the summer air is sticky and warm. Tetsurou mumbles something about getting lost, Koutarou hums in response.

It feels like a promise.


	2. hook, line, & sinker

The night air is cool and the wind sends soft chills down Tetsurou’s back, but he trudges along anyways, jogging lightly to follow Bokuto’s long strides. Finally, his boyfriend turns a corner, and screeches to a halt. “Ta-da! This is what I wanted to show you!”

“A playground...?” Tetsurou asks, taking in the old, run-down yard. It’s surrounded on all three sides by tall cement walls, and hard as hell to find, secluded here in a small back alley. The equipment looks terribly like it’s rusting and would infect Tetsurou with three different strains of tetanus if he cut himself, must lest hold his weight. There’s a small tire-swing attached to a pitiful looking tree, and a simple slide in the center. Off to the side are a pair of see-saws, which Bokuto is positively vibrating at.

“Oh boy, ohh BOY, it’s been so long!” the big, adorable oaf is yelling, his excitement visibly spilling out of him. It bled into their surroundings and as much as Tetsurou tried to appear otherwise, into Tetsurou, who felt a sudden surge of warmth for his boyfriend. “I love this place!”

He grabs Tetsurou’s hand briefly to tug him towards the age-old death trap, but then sprints the rest of the way. Bokuto’s butt is... not small, in any case, and Tetsurou really doubts it’ll fit on those small seats. Before he can voice his worries, Bokuto is already climbing up on the axis of the lever, and said ass waves high in the air, before his boyfriend pushes himself up to his feet triumphantly, having regained his balance.

Tetsurou has only half a moment to regret that lack of ass before Bokuto looks back over his shoulder and shoots him a blinding grin that leaves Tetsurou just a little bit winded. The thought “I’m so gay” hits him like a freight train, before speeding back and coming at him again. “Come on, Tetsu,” Bokuto urges him, shaking him out of his reverie.

Tetsurou eyes the metal, which creaks dangerously under Bokuto. “Are you sure that’s safe, Bo?” The pout he receives in return is so adorable that Tetsurou has to look away before the freight train returns again for his gay ass.

“When have you ever cared, Tetsu? Besides,” and Bokuto flexes his large, beautiful biceps. “These smokin’ guns will catch you if you fall.”

Tetsurou laughs, head thrown back, hoping the night air will hide his blush. Bokuto’s right, though; Tetsurou’s a sensible person on a good day, but careful doesn’t mean he can’t be curious, and Bokuto’s always brought out his sense of adventure (synonymous with his lack of self-preservation, Akaashi likes to say). “You’ll fall on your ass first,” he calls teasingly in reply.

“HEY,” Bokuto yells indignantly, then huffs. “You’re just jealous of my great bod, bro.” He wiggles his ass at Tetsurou, and it takes all his restraint to not choke and die, right there. When he snaps back up, he hops on over to the next see-saw, leaving room for Tetsurou on the first one. “C’mon, c’mon, don’t leave me hanging.”

Tetsurou heaves out a breathless laugh. “What kind of bro’d I’d be if I did that, Bo?” And he walks over, because curiosity didn’t kill the careful cat, and accepts Bokuto’s outstretched hand. As he hoists himself up, the metal creaks dangerously, and Tetsurou is ashamed to admit that even his renowned NekomaTM balance isn’t enough to keep him upright when a sudden sound startles him. He tips forward into solid-iron abs, and strong hands wrap around him in a loose embrace.

“Told ya I’d catch you.” Tetsurou looks up to Bokuto’s proud smile, and oh, their faces are so, so close. So he steals a quick kiss (there’s too much teeth this time, but Tetsurou should’ve seen that coming), then he flips around onto his see-saw. Bokuto places his hands on Tetsurou’s hips, and they stay like that, never leaving as the both try to out-do the other in see-sawing.

Tetsurou’s sorta wondering about the futility of the world and how it’s represented by the repetitive tipping motions of the see-saw when he notices a heat behind him, or specifically, pressed up against his ass. He leans back onto Bokuto’s broad chest, turning his head to look at his boyfriend’s face, which is steadily turning the colour of Tetsurou’s Nekoma jersey. Tetsurou grins. “Brooooo,” he drawls, dragging out the syllables, and shoves his ass back and wiggles a few time for good measure, “is this really making you hard?”

Bokuto burns an even brighter red. “S-shut up Tetsu, you’re literally twerking in front of me, ok?”

“And whose bright idea was that?” Tetsurou shoots right back, because yeah, out-see-sawing his best bro-turned-boyfriend really wasn’t his idea of a Wednesday date night. Though, he supposed, it could’ve been a lot worse.

“This didn’t happen when I did this in grade school,” Bokuto is wailing. Tetsurou laughs, and grips Bokuto’s iron arms as he easily swings himself around again, so they’re standing face to face. He pulls his boyfriend’s arms from hiding his face, and captures him in a kiss. It isn’t much deeper than the one they shared a few minutes ago, but Tetsurou does swipe his tongue on Bokuto’s lower lip. Bokuto tries to reciprocate, but Tetsurou’s already pulling back, not wanting to relive the horror that is Bokuto drooling on his face in public. (Yet. He doesn’t know exactly where the night is going, but it seems like it’s heading in that direction.)

So Bokuto ends up with his tongue sticking out of his mouth for a second there, cross-eyed as to why it didn’t make contact, then the man just decides to point his appendage at Tetsurou in true grade-school fashion. “You weren’t doing it with this hot ass in grade school,” Tetsurou points out, and shuts Bokuto up with another kiss before he can start pouting again.

It’s not long before they tire of the see-saws, and midnight finds them crowded together on the top of the small slide. They could’ve sat on the swings, but the frayed rope looked terribly unsafe to Tetsurou, so he chases Bokuto to the slide with promises of closer proximity and kisses before his boyfriend could suggest otherwise.

They stay there, trading stories and kisses, until the sun fully sets and Tetsurou’s phone beeps, alerting him that the last train was leaving soon. Reluctantly, he peels himself off of his boyfriend’s side. They tussle a bit as Bokuto insists its more fun to slide down together, and end up in a tangle on the concrete.

“Ow,” Tetsurou complains, more out of habit than out of actual hurt, as he unfurls himself from the unforgiving ground. Bokuto’s ascent is much less gracefully, clumsy and lumbering like he usually is off the court. Tetsurou loves this, loves his boyfriend and all his mannerisms. He tells Bokuto this both with words and then without words, behind the slide.

“So?” Bokuto pants out later, as they’re furiously sprinting to the train station, having lost track of time. “Did you— _huff_ — have a— _huff_ —good time?”

Tetsurou doesn’t pause his sprint—the train is leaving in 2 minutes—until he darts through the gates and into the waiting doors. Bokuto stays on the other side, leaning over the barrier, waiting for an answer.

Tetsurou thinks of his unfinished chemistry homework that he’ll have to do on the train the next morning, and of the nice dinner spots he Yelp’ed before coming over to Bokuto’s. Then he thinks of Bokuto’s eager smile, his infectious energy, and his apparent fondest of the rusted playground. It’s always so _easy_ between them, Tetsurou thinks.

“The best,” Tetsurou answers honestly, and is rewarded by the sight of Bokuto’s grin, before the train doors close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> so this is just Old, like 2015-era Old. they're also mostly WIPs i've scavenged while cleaning gDocs and decided to dust off (read: very lightly edited). even if they don't reflect how I write or plot nowadays, I still hope someone can enjoy them! 
> 
> I'm writing new and better fic these days since timeskip arc caught me by the throat and won't let go till I spit out 1) Kuroo Tetsurou in America fic (ft bokuroo) 2) One Piece Haikyuu AU 3) Atsuhina (many). 
> 
> talk to me on twit ([@eccros](https://twitter.com/eccros))


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